Next Time
by TiaFoyz
Summary: Spoilers for 6x12. What if Daryl had been out that night, too?
A cigarette draped between his lips, Daryl stood leaning against the railing to the left of the stairs, his left foot one step higher than his right while the chipping white paint rubbed against his belt. Without the front porch light on, he was shaded in darkness, invisible to most passers-by as he watched their midnight goings-on, content with his only companion being the wafting smoke. It was no surprise to him when Carol appeared across the way, footsteps light on the sidewalk of Alexandria.

His gaze did narrow when her seemingly brief exchange with Tobin turned into something more time consuming; he watched as she took her seat on the steps next to the male. The slits were so small his eyes were nearly closed as he watched his silver-haired friend lean right into the relative stranger and place her lips against his. A smirk came over Daryl's features in that exact second, a short, dry laugh being stifled by a closed mouth as he dropped the cancer-stick and snuffed it out, shaking his head and crossing thick arms over his chest. What the hell was she up to?

Daryl's attention didn't wander back to the steps where Carol and Tobin sat, not until there was the distinct movement of a body retreating into the house and turning off the light. His eyesight wasn't perfect, and the darkness made it much harder to focus, but there was no doubt in his mind that Carol was making her way directly across the street and to the foot of the drive he occupied. Always sly, Dixon feigned disinterest, keeping his hues directed down the dark road.

"I know you know I see you lurking, Daryl," Carol commented easily, her steps slowing as she approached. The wetness had been dried from her eyes, and although she still wasn't entirely herself, there was something about crossing the street that calmed the deepest disturbances to her nerves.

His nod was curt, his arms tightening over his chest just slightly. "Yeah," Daryl agreed. She wasn't sure why she'd expected anything more.

The standoffish posture he'd taken made her want to grin like the Cheshire cat. He'd grown into a man, surely, but there was still the boy she knew hiding somewhere within him, and it wasn't until the sun set that the boy came out to play ball. Without requiring an invitation, she moved up the steps, eyed Daryl Dixon from head to toe, and she leaned back against the opposite railing, her intention to remain silent, soaking in his comfortable presence.

It was a long time before either of them made a noise, and when he did, it came with a certain amount of coyness. "I liked you first, you know."

Carol's light blue eyes immediately sought out Daryl's, and she offered a genuine smile. "I know." Another beat of silence. "What? You jealous?"

Daryl scoffed and shook his head, almost too quickly. "I just wanna know why you're sharing my cigarettes with him." When she looked like she might object, the archer was quick to continue. "I can smell 'em all the way over here, so don't even try."

"I'll make it up to you," Carol offered. The tone she chose wasn't foreign to Daryl, but it had been quite some time – it was that low, playfully flirtatious one that made him want to simultaneously roll his eyes and drag her back to bed with him.

"How you gonna do that, hm?" He was happy to play along, be the bait for whatever punchline she surely had hiding up her sleeve. It was his turn to have his eyes, still shrouded in shadows, scrape over her body. He still hated those ridiculous clothes.

Carol took two steps toward him, fighting to keep the grin off of her lips. "I've got a kiss for you, too, Pookie." A hand was laid on his chest.

His eyes flickered downward, he shifted his weight, and then cleared his throat. When had his arms left their stance over his chest? "I don't want it," he said gruffly, despite the fact that it was a lie.

This was the game that they played.

A pout found its way onto Carol's lips, just ever-so-briefly, and she moved in even closer. "Or you could come back to my place…"

Daryl screwed his face up in something that he was attempting to make look like disgust, but failed. It came out looking more like he was nervous. "I've gotta be up early, woman," he remarked, just missing that point where he would sound any bit serious.

"Next time, then." And as quickly as she'd gotten close to him, she was making her way back toward the sidewalk, a certain sway in her step that hadn't been present on the way over.

"Yeah, next time," he called out after her, though it had taken a few seconds for him to find the words. His eyes remained on her retreating figure until she was out of sight.

And it didn't matter what she was doing with Tobin.

This was their game.


End file.
